


"on hiatus"

by whitenoise17



Category: Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: fobcc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 05:01:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9803597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitenoise17/pseuds/whitenoise17
Summary: *For FOBCC February 2017*This takes place over the hiatus. I apologize for any mixed up timelines/events, I wrote this at school so not much research... Make sure to check out the FOBCC on Tumblr, it's really cool!





	

“Hello?” Pete hadn’t answered his phone in two weeks. He just didn’t have the energy. He still didn’t; he didn’t know why he was doing this. It was too late now, though.  
  
“Pete! You picked up!” It was Brendon’s voice on the other end. He sounded full of energy, as usual. Pete suddenly remembered the day he’d met Brendon. It was a long time ago now. Way back before Pete’s band split up, in fact. He missed Fall Out Boy, if he was being honest. Sure, Pete’s head hadn’t been that great and Folie had destroyed pretty much all of their self esteem, but at least he felt like he was doing something. Now, he really didn’t know what was going on. They’d left the split as a “hiatus” in case they ever wanted to come back, but with Pete still recovering from his divorce and Patrick starting his solo career, there was a very, very small chance of that happening anytime soon.  
  
“Are you there?” Brendon’s voice sounded smaller now, like he was worried Pete was going to hang up. Something inside Pete’s headed clicked and he refocused on the conversation. Brendon had that effect, getting him out of his mind and back into the world. Maybe it was that Pete was used to looking out for him, or just that Brendon was really fucking annoying sometimes. Either way, Pete felt a little bit more real when he was talking to Brendon.  
  
“Yeah, I’m here. What do you need?” Pete could hear Brendon breathing on the other end for a second. He sounded nervous, like he didn’t want to say whatever it was that he’d called for. Pete waited. He could do that, just sit in silence for as long as Brendon needed. In fact, he’d really gotten used to being quiet since he got out of the public eye. The energetic persona he tried so hard to maintain started to slip away once no one was looking at him, and disappeared entirely once his marriage fell apart. Sitting alone at his house all day didn’t exactly require charisma. Neither did this phone call, thank god.  
  
“Um. I just, well, I thought you should be the first person I told. I want to - I’m going to - keep going with Panic. Make a new album. All that.” Brendon was rambling, tripping over his words and sounding more and more unsure of himself with each one. It was kind of funny, that Brendon was always so confident, full of himself even, in interviews and all that, but this was still what Pete would have said he sounded like if anyone asked him.  
  
“Brendon? Take a breath, okay? That’s amazing. I can’t wait to hear it, and I’m sure the fans can’t wait, either.” Pete was zoning out a little as he talked, but he tried his best to focus on what his mouth was saying. He could do this, he could get through one conversation. He could.  
  
“Actually, Pete, I was wondering, could you help me write one of the songs? I have this idea, but I can’t get it to work right, and I think you could. It’s called The Calendar. I can send you the demo. It doesn’t have any words yet, but if you want to hear it…” He trailed off again. Pete wished he could give Brendon some confidence again. They’d both used to have so much (most of Pete’s, at least, was fake, but did that matter?) Now, they were just two broken people sitting across the country from each other.  
  
“How did that happen?” Pete didn’t mean to say it out loud. Brendon didn’t say anything, just waiting for Pete to explain what he meant. “I was just thinking, we were so different just a couple years ago. What happened to that?”  
  
“What do you mean?” Brendon sounded a little apprehensive, like he didn’t really want to get into all the ways that they’d changed, mostly for the worst. Pete could spare him this. All he had to do was not answer, which was something he’s gotten very, very good at.  
  
“Pete. I want to know.” Brendon sounded stubborn now. “I haven’t been able to talk to anyone about the split and all that, not anyone who understands. Spencer’s great, but the decision to stay was hard on him, and I’m not about to add to that. I don’t know, I just feel like I need to admit to myself that things have changed.” He laughed, but bitterly. Pete felt sorry for him. No. Sorry wasn’t the right word. Sorry is something people said when they didn’t quite understand what was going on. Pete understood, and that was so much worse.  
  
“We used to be doing so well, you know? We were on top of the world. The classic rock star life or whatever. And now I haven’t left my house in six days.” Pete’s eyes suddenly filled up. What the fuck? He was not going to cry on the phone to Brendon. This was fucking ridiculous. Pete scrubbed at his eyes and took a deep breath. He was fine. Everything was okay. Even if he was never going to do anything worthwhile ever again, even if he had to spend the rest of his life stuck in this haze, he could do it. He was fine.  
  
“Do you need me to come out there?” Brendon said it on impulse, before he could think, the words tumbling out of his mouth. Pete could picture Brendon curling in on himself a little, bringing his hand to his face the way he always did when he said something he didn’t mean to.  
  
“I can’t make you do that.” Pete had gotten to the point where he could admit to himself that he needed help. He knew he should tell Brendon yes. He knew that instead of staring at the TV whenever things got hopeless, he could (should) talk about it. Brendon would understand. He was a lot like Pete, and he would listen to Pete all damn night if he needed it. But Pete wasn’t going to make anyone else deal with this. This was his problem, and besides, he didn’t know how to put anything into words anymore. There was this brick wall somewhere in his mind, and no matter how much he wanted to talk about what was behind it, he just couldn’t.  
  
“You don’t have to. Hell, I can make it a business thing if that’s what it will take to make you let me help. That song’s not gonna write itself.” Brendon sounded like he was smiling now. Good. Pete wanted him to be happy. Letting him fly out to look after a depressed shut-in was not going to achieve that.  
  
“Listen. As much as I wish you could come out here, and I’ll admit that I do, I can’t force this on you.” He had to understand. Pete sounded a little desperate now. He could hear it, and he forced himself to breathe. He was fine.  
  
“Okay.” Brendon sounded defeated, and Pete was relieved. A little disappointed. But mostly relieved. He said goodbye to Brendon and hung up. He’d successfully avoided human contact yet again. Pete laughed, because really, what else could he do? Then he turned the television on, pretending everything was fine, just like every other night.  
  
Thousands of miles away, Brendon was buying a plane ticket.


End file.
